


Hadynne Elisabet Trevelyan

by rayeliann



Series: A Small Fire in a Dark World [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hadynne liveblog snippets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:59:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayeliann/pseuds/rayeliann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've been liveblogging Hadynne's play through with little snippets and ficlets.  This is where I will be keeping all of those in chronological order as I work through DAI.</p><p>It's an Inquisitor's journal of sorts, but from a 3rd person POV rather than via Hadynne herself.</p><p>"Chapter" length will vary from very short to drabble length with each one considered its own instance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“There! Up on the hill! It attacks from a distance!” Cassandra's voice was rough in the freezing winter air. It was so cold her breath made a cloud that lingered in the air in front of her.

Hadynne allowed herself a small, sly grin. 

“So do I.” She said under her breath - lightning already crackling at her fingertips.


	2. Apostate

Hadynne gritted her teeth, gaining control over her sparking temper. 

The elven apostate- Solas- had not made the best impression as of yet. Grateful for his help in keeping her alive, Hadynne had been willing to overlook the slights in their brief conversation. There were more important matters to hold her attention, and she might find herself needing his help again before the day was through. 

But if he bumped into her one more time… he would find out just how capable a Circle mage could be.


	3. The 'Trevelyan'

“Interesting technique you have there, Ember. Did I see you hit that shade over the head with your staff?” Varric asked, a grin on his lips and amusement coloring his words.

“Technique… yes…” Hadynne huffed, still catching her breath.

“I take it that wasn’t your typical Circle-approved move then?”

“Hah… hardly. That… was a little thing I like to call panic.” Hadynne responded once she’d stopped panting. Her heart was still beating rapidly in her chest, but she managed to shoot the dwarf a beaming smile. Varric chuckled in response.

“I hear if you invent a move you get to name it.”


	4. First Impressions

Cullen did not particularly like courtly noble ladies. They seemed frivolous, simpering fools who thought war was a game. They never said what they meant, and what they did say could always be interpreted in several vastly different ways. It was enough to give him a headache. So, as a rule, he tried to avoid them. He would avoid nobility in every form if he was given the chance. 

But when Cassandra brought her before them, and introduced her as the Lady Trevelyan, he could not help but feel a tingle of awe. She was bedraggled and dressed in shoddy mercenary’s clothes. Her auburn hair was a wild mess, and there were angry red marks around her wrists from being shackled. But she held herself with a particular regality, her shoulders square, and her movements fluid and graceful. 

Dark, hooded brown eyes flickered over him as he was introduced, acknowledging and dismissive in the same sweeping gaze. Cullen felt the strangest sensation- almost as if this was the first real “Lady” he had encountered in ages. Perhaps even since the time he'd managed to catch a glimpse of Queen Anora before the blight back home in Fereldan.

Lady Trevelyan’s head tilted as he mentioned his training as a templar, her eyes sweeping over him appraisingly, something hidden behind them. He remembered Leliana mentioning the prisoner and sole survivor of the Conclave at Haven had been a mage. He could not help but wonder if it was malice glittering behind her masked eyes.

Lady Trevelyan - Hadynne- was gracious enough in her interactions and careful with her wording when they asked her about being Andraste’s chosen. He found himself appreciating her cool manners and collected thoughts. It was obvious she considered her words before speaking, and often paused before responding intelligently. Another in the same situation might be inclined to respond emotionally or irrationally. Leliana had mentioned this earlier as well - the prisoner had remained remarkably collected even in the face of Cassandra’s interrogation. If this was who they were to place their faith in- well, it could have been worse.


	5. Fashionista

“Armor of the Dragon” Hadynne read aloud, crouching near the box that had been left in the center of her floor. 

She pried the lid from the box and peered inside. A shudder of revulsion ran through her as her gaze fell over the contents.

It had to be the UGLIEST armor Hadynne had ever seen.


	6. A Little Help

Hadynne leaned with the full force of her small body against the giant wooden gates of Haven. The doors didn’t budge even a little. 

Huffing in frustration (she’d been pushing and pulling fruitlessly on the gate doors for some time now) she stepped back a few paces, hoping a running start would provide her with the burst of momentum she needed. 

Her shoulder hit the immobile gate with a dull thunk! and pain spiked down her arm. Forgetting herself and her manners, Hadynne swore vehemently.

Behind her, someone chuckled.

“Allow me, Lady Herald.” Commander Cullen said, stepping past her to push open the troublesome gate with one arm. With his free arm, he gestured in a perfunctory manner for her to proceed into the village.

Gathering her pride, Hadynne sniffed and slipped through the gate.


	7. Breaking the Ice

Hadynne’s breath caught as she heard the ice underfoot crackle. She looked down, seeing the white of the cracks spiderwebbing across the slick surface. Cassandra had warned her not to cross the lake, but she had waved it off as the warrior’s over protective worrying. Why hadn’t she listened? 

She set off at a run, racing and sliding across the surface toward land before she could plunge through the thin ice into the lake. Haven grew closer as she started to lose her balance, the ice breaking int large, unstable chunks. If ever there was a time she needed to be able to do ice magic… 

Hadynne had taken to fire and lightning like a prodigy. Her command at channeling those elements (at times even without the aid of a staff) had been such that the Ostwick First Enchanter had been willing to overlook precedent and made her one of the youngest Enchanters that Circle had ever seen. She’d spent tedious hours perfecting her craft. She could coax the smallest, smoldering embers to raging infernos and back again. She could wield lighting whip-like and sharp, striking a target on the other end of a field. She had even ventured into spirit magic, and could summon a mind-blast that would send seasoned templars staggering. 

And yet… Hadynne could still not manage to execute a simple frost spell. There were novices who could cast Winter’s Grasp. But all Hadynne could manage was the occasional splash of lukewarm water accompanied by an odd tingling feeling. Her teachers had always insisted that this was not unusual. Some mages were simply not suited to certain trees. But Hadynne had always been a bit ashamed of what she considered her failure.

It certainly might have helped.

Several yards from Haven still, Hadynne crashed through the ice with a screeching yelp, icy black water rushing up over her head. Her head bobbed above the water again, and Hadynne grabbed at the ice around her frantically. There was nothing for her to grab ahold of but slippery-slick ice bobbing in the frozen lake. 

For a moment, Hadynne thought she heard shouting. Shapes around her blurred as she fell back under, muscles tingling and her limbs going numb. The light armor she’d been wearing was finely crafted by Harritt, but it was no match for the wintery water. 

Hadynne fought for another breath, mouth half-filling with foul-tasting water as it rushed up her nose and into her lungs. She coughed, but she was already sinking again, and everything around her was dark. It had become impossible for her to tell which way as up, even if she could will her body to work at this shockingly cold temperature. Her arms felt numb and useless. Her fingers… were they even still there? Her legs kicked, but they moved far slower than she meant them to, and it felt as if something had her by the ankles, pulling her down.

Everything dimmed, but she held on to consciousness, vaguely aware of someone grabbing ahold of her, HARD. Air came with a rush of blinding light and the screeching of several voices at once. Hadynne coughed up what felt like half of the lake, shivering and collapsing against her rescuer.   
“Here. Keep her warm! Someone fetch Adan! NOW.” a strong, masculine voice boomed, and Hadynne felt too weak to open her eyes. But she knew it…didn’t she?

She was on her feet now, swaying and foggy, but standing. Her rescuer held her firmly by the shoulders, building her stumbling feet over the rocky shore. Through fluttering eyelids, she caught blurred features and dark hair. Sunlight glimmered off of… templar armor? 

Hadynne stumbled forward, and warm, strong arms, larger than the last but gentler in their movements enveloped her in a heavy woolen blanket. It was Inquisition red and smelled a bit like campfire.

“I…I’m sorry Cassandra. You were right… I….” Hadynne mumbled, stepping toward the figure that had pulled her from the lake. It was distinctly feminine now, and two blurry soldiers were wrapping her in a heavy green blanket similar that had been foisted upon Hadynne. Hadynne’s knees buckled, and big hands dug into her elbows, holding her on her feet. 

“Where is Adan?” The male voice rumbled again, this time surprisingly close to her ear at a volume that made her recoil in surprise. Whether he noticed (or cared), the speaker continued, his voice commanding.

“Maker’s Breath Lysette, that was reckless of you. But you have my thanks… and no doubt that of the entire Inquisition. See that you have Adan take a look at you as well.”


	8. Chancellor Roderick

“Clearly, your _templar_ knows where to draw the line.” Roderick’s tone made it clear that he was well aware of Cullen’s break from the order. The word was meant as a barb.

Cullen shifted his weight between feet, unmoved by the words, and though she’d only just met the Commander, Hadynne bristled.

“ _ **My**_ … now see here-”

“He’s toothless.” Cullen spoke over her protestations, drowning her out. Probably for the better. It would not do to have the Herald of Andraste arguing on the Chantry’s stoop with some obnoxious nobody Chancellor. As it was, she was not sure what might have come out of her mouth in response to come of the antagonistic things the Chancellor was spewing. Lucky the Commander was there - and twice as stubborn as Roderick. He seemed to believe with every ounce of himself in what the Inquisition was and what they hoped to accomplish. Standing up for her was pleasant by-product.

Hadynne steeled herself, a strange welling feeling in her gut. Resolve. If she was to do this - if she was to be the Herald of Andraste - she needed to be worthy of the title. She needed to be better. She needed to show them all.

Hadynne let out a long breath, only half hearing the rest of Cullen’s words.

“…a good indicator of what to expect in Val Royeaux, however.”

“Well, lets hope we find solutions rather than a cathedral full of chancellors.”

“The stuff of nightmares.” Cullen replied, the slightest twinkle in one of his golden eyes as he stepped to one side, allowing her into the Chantry. Behind her, Hadynne could hear the Chancellor making some sort of retort… but she was already gone.


	9. Cullen

He crossed his arms across his chest when he spoke to her. Almost like he was keeping a barrier between them. There could be no clearer message than his shining, armored limbs forming a solid, horizontal line that read “keep out”. But this only made Hadynne want to know him more.

Cullen’s past as a templar was clear to anyone who knew what to look for. He did not wear their uniform or sport the sigil, but he still squared his shoulders, spine straight. He shifted his weight between his feet, a loose, ready stance as if he anticipated trouble. Many of the Inquisition soldiers locked their knees standing at attention, but any seasoned warrior knew stiff legs were easier to sweep out from under you. 

To Hadynne, the most telling sign was the distance he kept from her. Arms length. Not too close, the way Leliana seemed to linger just at her elbow, seemingly materializing out of thin air. And not too far, the way Solas swayed warily, keeping at least two paces from her, even while idly talking in Haven.

Cullen crossed his arms across his chest, just far enough away to be a polite distance, but close enough to intervene if he was needed. Whether he was watching her to see if he would have to spring to her defense, or strike her down… that was still to be determined.


	10. Spider bite

Cullen was drilling his soldiers outside of Haven when his lieutenant pointed out Cassandra leading the Herald’s party up the path in the snow. They were back earlier than expected - had the expedition to the Storm Coast gone that well? Not from Leliana’s scouts’ reports… something must be wrong. 

As they drew closer, Cullen noted a large, hulking shadow joined them, and a ragged looking band of mercenaries brought up the tail-end of the unusually large party. 

The Herald normally preferred to take a handful of her more trusted companions, led of course by Cassandra. Hadynne seemed to be oddly willing to trust the Seeker so easily. It was strange given what he had seen of her cautious (yet charming) character, and even stranger considering she was a mage. Most of the Inquisition mages had been careful to keep a wide buffer between Cullen, Cassandra, and their templars.

The large shadow turned out to be a Qunari, and Cullen remembered Leliana mentioning the leader of the mercenary band they had gone to meet was called The Iron Bull. But where… where was the Herald?

The commander stepped out to meet them as they approached, and the expression on Cassandra’s face was more stoic than usual. Anticipating his question, she jerked her head back, gesturing he look to the band of bedraggled misfits that made up the Chargers. 

They were carrying a makeshift litter constructed (rather ingeniously) from branches and what looked like the material of an Inquisition tent. A tiny, pallid form lay still on the litter, red-brown hair strewn about her head.

“Herald!” Cullen heard himself gasp, starting toward her. Cassandra caught his arm, motioning for those carrying the litter to continue into Haven. She shouted instructions on finding the apothecary’s building, and the great qunari tipped his hand, acknowledging he’d heard.

“Spider-bite nothing more. We’ve already administered an anti-venom she made herself. And Solas has given her something to help her sleep. All the same, we wanted Adan to look over her as soon as possible.” Cassandra explained.

“She is our only way of closing the rifts.”

“Of that, I am aware Commander. I will see that you are kept updated on her status. Excuse me.”


	11. Training

“I appreciate your concern Cassandra, but this is hardly necessary.” Hadynne protested tactfully. The Seeker waved off her protestations with snap of her wrist, using the other hand to toss Hadynne an ordinary wooden staff.

“As much as I may wish to always be around to protect you, it is foolish to believe it will always be so.”

“I can take care of myself.” Hadynne countered, sparking a fireball in the palm of her hand as proof. Cassandra eyed the display of magic warily, but her mouth curved upward ever slightly at the corners, betraying her amusement.

“Of that, I have no doubt. But you know as well as I that there are those with abilities to interrupt or dampen magic. Not all of them remain loyal to the Order. And we do not yet know who was behind the Divine’s death.” 

“Ugh. Very well. Lets get on with… how did you put it again? Toughening me up?” Hadynne quirked a grin at her friend, spinning her wooden weapon expertly in the same manner she twirled her own mage staff. 

With two movements Cassandra knocked it from her hands with a force that made her fingers go numb, pain sparking through her hands.

“It is more effective if you hold on to it.” The warrior teased, raising an eyebrow as she fought a grin. Re-arming herself determinedly, Hadynne sunk back into a more serious version of her earlier stance. She was not one who liked being bested. At anything. Not even by Cassandra. Hadynne Trevelyan was a woman of extremes, and she attacked tasks with a single-minded determination that had earned her a reputation in her Circle days. If she was to learn this, she would learn to be the absolute best at it. 

“Let’s try again.”


End file.
